


An Eternity in a Night

by sciencebutch



Series: Tumblr Prompts [14]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Longing, Pining, Sharing a Bed, Tenderness, oh my god there was only one bed, they invented love. its about the LONGING
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-21
Updated: 2019-07-21
Packaged: 2020-07-09 18:57:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19892713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sciencebutch/pseuds/sciencebutch
Summary: The Doctor and Rose are sharing a bed. It's not the first time, but that doesn't make it any easier for him.





	An Eternity in a Night

**Author's Note:**

> prompt: "things you said when i was sleeping"

The Doctor and sleep are like good friends. Well, he says good friends but really just means friends. Acquaintances. Well…associates. Distant ones. Like a third cousin twice removed who you sort of know because they always show up to the family reunions.

He’d had a few third cousins—and a few fourth ones, too. The reunions on Gallifrey always got a bit complex; you never really know when someone’s regenerated unless you see them regularly. Maybe all his fourth cousins were really just his third ones in different bodies…

Well, not like he’d ever know now. And besides, there’s no use focusing on that now anyway—even though it’s better than focusing on his current situation. Actually, he’d quite like to focus on his current situation, but that would mean he’d have to sort through those red mushy feelings he’d shoved to the back of his brain in the back of a giant safe labeled “Rose”—and who had time for that?

…He did. He had approximately 7 hours, 34 minutes, and 8 seconds (give or take 20 nanoseconds), before the night cycle of Betelgeuse ended and they could leave. Rather odd culture, the Betelgeusians had. Didn’t appreciate people flying at night.

They were sharing a bed. It wasn’t the first time, but that doesn’t make it any easier for the Doctor. He was on his back, his coat hung draped over the bed post, hands folded over his stomach.

Rose hummed in her sleep and shuffled closer to him, nestling her perfect pink and yellow head in his pinstriped chest. The Doctor stiffened, because if he didn’t stiffen, he would end up wrapping his arm around her, and if he did that…well. Bad could definitely come from that. As well as good. But he couldn’t allow himself that type of good. Not now, and not with her.

Even though he so desperately wants it.

Rose was too good for him, really. And a human also. Not like there’s anything wrong with that, of course. He loves humans! Everything about them, down to their useless appendixes and shoddy time sense. Well, everything except for the lifespan. Gone in the blink of an eye, really. Like mayflies to his tortoise.

…Time tortoises! They didn’t have tortoises on Gallifrey, and if they did, he reckons they’d live for a very very very long time. Multitudes longer than Time Lords did. Huh, maybe it’s best they didn’t have them. No one really wants eternity once they have it. Scratch that—no one wants eternity _alone_. But the tortoises wouldn’t even be alone, would they? They’d have other tortoises. It wouldn’t be like—

Well, it wouldn’t be like him.

Rose’s face scrunches and she snuffles. She’s all bunched up against him, even though he’s a good few degrees cooler than she is and she can’t be very warm like that. He was like a walking ice box, Rose had said. She’d also said, once, that she didn’t mind it because his palms never got sweaty. To which he said that it was a bit unfair to him, as her hands did get sweaty. Then she said “Oi!” and punched him lightheartedly in the chest.

The Doctor smiles at the memory. Not much else to smile at these days, besides Rose. He wriggles around until he can look at her without turning his head, trying not to jostle her too much.

He stares at her, eyes wide and owlish. Lovestruck almost, though he’d never use the L-word to describe himself—even if he was aware it’s applicable. He memorizes her face, even though he’s done it loads of times before; committed it to his brain. Her thick eyebrows, angled chin, plump lips, round eyes, sloped nose, ears. The Doctor wants to feel every ridge of her face, cup her cheeks in his palm and map out the structure of her skull. Run his hands through her hair and muss it up just as much as she’d mess up his, hopefully, if she wanted to.

“It’s. It’s amazing, really,” he speaks before he can stop his voice from leaving his throat, and his words fill the silence of the room. “No one has ever caused my hearts to beat like you have. All fast and stutter-y. Maybe I’ve got a condition. Do you think I’ve got a condition?” he looks at Rose as if he expects an answer. “Oh right, you’re asleep. Dunno if you could help much if you were awake anyways, probably don’t know much about Gallifreyan cardiology. At least, I assume you don’t. Maybe you do. But you probably would’ve brought it up sometime if you did, though, so…” he fades off with a minute shrug. It’s a while before he starts talking again. Maybe he hates the silence. Maybe the memories and those L-word feelings have been bubbling up from that safe in the back of his mind and have finally escaped. Like a washing machine when you put too much soap in.

“I’ve been meaning—well, not meaning; would’ve said it otherwise if I was meaning. Wanting? More than that. Like…needing but slightly less. Needing indicates that I can’t survive without doing it, but obviously that’s not true; I’ve been living all this time, haven’t I? Hmm…need-want. Good middle ground, there. I’ve been…need-wanting to tell you this for a while, now. A long while—maybe since the beginning, even. It’s—well—I, I. I think you know what it is, and I think you know what it is, and I think you know I know you know what it is. So does it even need saying?” The Doctor sighs. “Perhaps not. But it’ll be good to get off my chest, so…” he pauses, steels himself.

“I love you, Rose Tyler.”

She does nothing to indicate she heard him, but that’s okay. He can look at her forever, even when she’s not awake—he _wants_ to look at her forever.

Sadly, he only has 6 hours, 59 minutes, and 47 seconds now.

But the Doctor can make do with that; he’ll make those near-seven hours a little eternity; infinity in the span of a single night. Perhaps it’s hypocritical of him, a man who despises eternity, begging for one more forever.

**Author's Note:**

> fowwow me on [tumblr](https://azirafelesbian.tumblr.com/)


End file.
